Peter and Wendy
by mcfuz
Summary: The months pass. Winter slips on to spring and the end of school draws ever closer. And as the world blooms around them, so does the friendship of Peter and Wendy. / A modernised version of Peter Pan. AU.


**Peter and Wendy**

* * *

The first time he sees her, he's twelve and she's thirteen, and he knows she's something different. Maybe it's the way her nose is formed in a perpetual scrunch, probably from poring over the pages of books; perhaps it's her loose red-brown hair and the way it curls right behind her ears; or maybe it's the way she scowls instantly when their gazes first meet, as if she's already formed an opinion of him even though they've never even spoken before.

Whatever it is, Peter sees it, and he knows that Wendy Darling is someone very, very special.

It's the first day of school, and though summer has barely ended already the winter chill has begun to seep back into the air. When Peter sees Wendy, she's covered up from head to toe, her red nose peeking out from beneath layers of clothing. They're a whole football field away from each other - and Peter's eyesight has never been too flash - but somehow, his gaze is drawn to her, and he offers a tentative smile, knowing that this girl is bound to be someone extraordinary.

She turns her nose in the air and walks off in a huff. Peter's in a daze the rest of the day.

The next time he sees her is a week later. She's in the year above him, so their paths hardly ever cross. But one day, in the library on a rainy afternoon in September, he sees her and his heart stops beating. She's sitting in the senior section - but no one really minds since the place is relatively empty - engrossed in a book, and Peter is gratified his assumption of her - that the reason her nose is crinkled is because she squints at the pages of novels all day long - is correct. This gives him confidence to approach, and so approach he does.

She must have keen ears, because she glances up and meets his eyes almost as soon as he begins to advance. Peter hears her sigh and shut her book. He tilts his head subtly to the side to see the title: _Romeo and Juliet_. It must be a sign, he tells himself, and a grin unfurls across his face as he greets her. She says nothing in response, merely standing and walking off, her mouth twisted into a sour expression which he thinks makes her even prettier, but he sees on one of the exercise books sticking out of her bag that her name is Wendy. And he smiles even wider, because he's always loved that name.

The next day at school, he learns from his classmate that Wendy Darling comes from a broken family, and he wonders what that means.

Their paths don't cross for another month or so. Peter is busy adjusting and making friends - whom he affectionately calls his Lost Boys, because they aren't exactly the brightest tools in the shed and often need his help with their homework, class work, family or life in general - and Wendy exists on an entirely different plane to him entirely. When he does finally see her, it's in a deserted classroom, and her eyes are red and puffy from crying, and she screams at him to _"get out!"_, so he does, shutting the door behind him.

That night at home he looks up what 'broken family' means. Peter cries himself to sleep.

All too soon it's Christmastime and the corridors of school are strewn with tinsel and glitter and fairy lights. Peter revels in the sheer joy of it: he spends his days having snowball fights with the Lost Boys in the playground, and playing hide-and-seek among the frost covered trees. He doesn't mean to, but he forgets about Wendy, just a little, enough to make him guilty when he finally remembers. That afternoon, he goes to the store and buys a brand new copy of _Romeo and Juliet_ - because he recalls her copy looked worn and faded - and the next day he slips it into her locker when she's not looking as his Lost Boys make a distraction. When she does look, he's turned the corner of the hallway and doesn't see the small smile that curves across her face as she finds the present and reads the message scrawled inside: _Keep that scrunched nose cute, Wendy. Yours, P.P._

The last day before winter break, Peter opens his own locker to find a paperback murder mystery wedged inside. A note falls from its pages as he picks it up. _You need to work on anonymity, Peter. Hope this helps. Thanks. _The message doesn't need a signature to tell him who it's from.

He finishes the novel at one a.m. that morning. The note he keeps tucked beneath his pillow.

School begins again, and it must be fate because Peter sees Wendy that morning, alone and smiling with a brand new haircut. She catches his eye and her smile grows wider. He isn't able to concentrate in class the rest of the day.

A week later, she approaches him in the playground, and the chatter of the Lost Boys falls silent as she stops right in front of Peter. "Come with me," is all she says, and Peter's happy to oblige. Wendy leads him to the library, to the topmost level and towards the big bay window that looks out on the street below. She turns and looks at him as they reach it. He notices with consternation she's a head taller than him.

"You still have all your baby teeth," is what she begins with, and Peter blushes, telling her he's a late bloomer. For some reason, this makes her smile, and she pinches his cheek playfully. "Thank you for the book, Peter," she says, turning to look out the window. "It's much nicer than my old copy."

"Thank you for the murder mystery."

"I suppose it helped?"

"A lot, actually."

"Good."

The two of them fall into silence, and Peter isn't sure what to do with his hands. He settles for sticking them into his pockets, comforting himself with their familiar warmth. He's nervous.

The bell rings for class. Wendy tells him they should go, and she gives him a goodbye handshake, all serious and solemn but with laughter dancing in her eyes. She flounces off to English, and Peter rejoins his Lost Boys for gym. They flood him with questions, but all Peter can do is smile. He doesn't wash the hand Wendy shook for a week.

Peter isn't sure when it happens, but slowly, ever so slowly, Wendy joins the Lost Boys. Of course, she will never truly be a part of them - she's far too smart, not to mention _female_, for that - but they're happy to accommodate her, on one condition: that since she reads so much, she must know an awful lot of stories and tales, and so of course she must tell them all to Peter and the Boys. Wendy doesn't seem to mind; she actually enjoys it. They all treat her like a mother, a caring figure who always has the answers. Even Peter looks up to her in a way he never did before.

The months pass. Winter slips on to spring and the end of school draws ever closer. And as the world blooms around them, so does the friendship of Peter and Wendy.

It begins, once more, in the library. She's helping him with an essay on _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, because she covered all this last year, and his eyes are focused on the paper so it's a complete accident when he shifts his hand ever so slightly and bumps against her fingertips. They both jump, pulling away, and Peter swears he sees Wendy blush. She stands, muttering some excuse about a social justice meeting, then flees. Peter isn't sure why, but there's a tingle in his hand from where it touched hers that just won't go away.

Their next meeting is awkward, all jutting limbs and banging foreheads and pregnant pauses. Peter feels mismatched, somehow, as if he's been taken apart and put back together all wrong. He finds that he can't meet Wendy's eyes, let alone talk to her the way they used to, and so it is in this fashion his thirteenth birthday passes without fanfare, except for a few pats on the back courtesy of his Lost Boys.

At the end of the day, just when Peter is closing his locker and getting ready to walk home in the pale spring rain, Wendy greets him just the way she always did. He's not sure how she knows it's his birthday, but know she does, and she takes his hand - their fingers don't fit together perfectly like in that sappy romance novel Peter once stole from his primary teacher, but that's okay because they have plenty of time to work it out - and pulls him closer, closer, closer, until their lips are touching and all he can think of is _Wendy_.

The kiss isn't particularly long, or sweet. It's a confusion of teeth and lips and tongue, and to be honest, it's far from pleasant or even enjoyable. But when they break apart, and Wendy looks up at him from beneath her lashes - he's grown, he realises, because she always used to be taller than him - the smile she gives him is warm and real and worth a hundred million kisses.

And that night, two of Peter's baby teeth fall out.

* * *

**Author's Note:** So basically, for a class in school I had to write a story using intertextuality...and here it is. My own modern AU version of Peter Pan...please review, it seriously means so, so much to me. It makes me happy almost as much as Mark of Athena made me cry. xoxo (And yes. I used the same beginning as in my 'Of Fate and Scorpius Malfoy' story. So sue me.)


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